


In the Rain I Find You

by dragonflower



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflower/pseuds/dragonflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka deals with the possibility of Makoto getting married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Rain I Find You

Haruka never thought about his future. It would have water and swimming in some capacity and that was enough. It was Makoto’s future Haruka found himself daydreaming about.

He pictured Makoto with a wife and two kids, Haruka visiting them on the weekends, children climbing on top of him like Makoto’s brother and sister used to. Makoto would smile and laugh and his wife would watch over them fondly.

When waves crashed in his mind and his thoughts grew darker, Haruka pictured another future: one where Makoto slowly withdrew from him like a receding tide; Makoto’s new family consuming and overshadowing their friendship. Haruka left bobbing in the water, the tide pulling him father away until he was only a buoyed speck.

Each future grew closer as the years past, Makoto’s parents hinting at an arranged marriage with the daughter of a finance manager from his father’s business.

Makoto was hesitant at first, digging his heels in the ground and refusing with bright red ears. He told his parents that he was happy with how things were and how he was not ready to settle down. Parents, however, have a way with their children and soon Makoto found himself on a date with Yukari, and then another, and another, until Haruka could feel the cold rising in their apartment; loneliness sinking in when his friend was not there.

Listlessness built inside Haruka, making him squirm and wish for a pool to climb into. Access energy swam through his body, his hands restless and his legs jittery; a sour feeling sprouted inside his stomach, swirling around like a whirlpool.

A bath usually cleansed his worries — the calming sensation of water surrounding and engulfing him, making his stresses go away; water the one thing that never failed to calm his mind. But the bath nearby was closed for routine cleaning and their apartment only had a shower. And showers weren’t quite the same.

Haruka glanced at the wall clock, time unmoving, the small dolphin hand ticking around the clock face like a snail. He settled deeper into the couch, fat green cushions crowding and supporting him like an embrace.

The first splash of water against the window made Haruka whip his head towards the sound, the tightness in his chest receding slightly. A smile closed over his lips as rain pelted against the window, heavy drops dripping down. Haruka stretched his arm out, fingers barely making it to the window; the glass was cool and comforting under his touch.

Haruka watched rain fall in pitter patters, focusing all his attention on the water and not on the clock and its stationary time.

The burning desire to tear off all his clothes and run outside tugged at him, but last time they had received complaints when Haruka had run outside in nothing but his jammers (he could still see Makoto’s fond yet exasperated look and the landlord’s dragon like nostrils flare in anger).

Instead he forewent an umbrella and rain jacket and put on a pair of flip-flops (this way he felt the squish of water between his toes). He kept his shirt and pants on, feeling that Makoto and the landlord would appreciate the act, and left the apartment.

The elevator was too slow, the intense need to be outside in the rain billowing and stretching in every synapse of his body. It was still on the fourth floor when Haruka sped off towards the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

On the main floor, the guard rolled his eyes as Haruka rushed past him. He caught the muttered end of “fucking water lunatic,” before he crashed through the front door.

His body felt slick with rain immediately, water pelting down in big gushes, air thick with the clean smell of grass. Rain coated Haruka, melting into his body, soaking into every crack.

Every sense came alive, every part of him renewed under the clouded grey sky. He raised his face to the rain, not caring about the stares he received from people walking by. He tasted rain on his lips, on his tongue. It was sweeter than pool water and as salty as the ocean.

“I thought you might be out here,” said a familiar voice, cutting through the drumming of rain.

Haruka looked toward his friend, rain falling over his eyes. He blinked the rain away, smiling green eyes meeting his. 

Makoto looked tired. His shoulders drooped, weighed down from a long day’s work, his legs slightly bent, ready to rest his feet; Makoto was dry underneath his umbrella except for the bottoms of his pants.

“The bathhouse is closed today,” said Haruka as if that explained everything.

“I see.” Makoto shook his head, fond exasperation crossing his face. He lowered and shut his umbrella, water jetting down his tall frame. “If we stay out like this again, Takeda will come out and scold us for making a scene.”

Makoto scrunched his face and slouched over, coughing. “No man stays outside in the rain unless he’s waiting for a woman or working on a ship,” Makoto quoted, his voice low and crotchety.

Haruka huffed, keeping his smile at bay. He didn’t care if they got in trouble again, but Makoto extended his hand and Haruka took it.

They crashed through puddles like little kids as they ran back to the apartment; Haruka would generally have took his time going back inside, but Makoto’s laughter spurred him on and they flew through the door, Takeda glaring at them.

Makoto hunched his shoulders and looked sheepish as Takeda shook his head and mumbled something about how youth made boys stupid.

They made their way to the elevator, shoes squishing with water, Makoto’s cheeks tinged with pink. The ride up was quick and Makoto let out an exasperated sigh as their apartment door swung open without need of any keys.

Haruka peeled off his soggy clothes on the welcome home mat, Makoto removing his rain jacket and putting it on a coat hook. They separated and changed into drier outfits, Haruka missing the feel of water against his skin; the cling of his clothes that smelled of fresh rain fall.

He padded barefoot into the small living room, Makoto sitting on the green and brown couch. His short brown hair clung to the shape of his face, water dripping down the sides of his cheeks; Haruka walked over and collected drops of rain with his fingers, brushing the water from his friend’s eyes.

Makoto’s strong hands wrapped around Haruka’s fingers and he leaned into his friends touch, his shoulders slumping and head bowed forward.

“Yukari’s family wants to set a wedding date.” The words slapped across Haruka’s face, his hand tensing, Makoto not letting him go; the rain in the window captured Haruka’s gaze, Haruka not willing to meet Makoto’s searching stare. “They’re already talking about grandchildren.”

Thunder crashed in Haruka’s heart, a throbbing that he had tried to push away resurfacing – he had let the waters of the sea blanket and burry this feeling deep inside of him. He heard Makoto call his name, a faint voice trying to pull him back to shore.

“Haru. Haru. Look at me.” Makoto’s hands cupped Haruka’s chin and turned him toward the taller man. “Say something.”

Green eyes searched blue and Haruka looked away. He stared at the floor as green eyes tried to lock onto his, emotions festering on the surface that Haruka did not want to see.

A strange tension crept up Haruka’s arms and into his shoulders, his heart beating fast. His hands curled and uncurled in his lap, a storm brewing in his mind. (It shouldn’t be like this. The rain washed away all his worries.)

“A mountain wedding would be nice. The streams are clearest there,” said Haruka, the words thrust forward by some unseen source. 

Silence followed. Makoto’s whole body taunt.

“It’s only been a few meetings, Haru. I can still call it off. I…” Makoto’s voice came out softer, strained, like every word was difficult. “I haven’t said yes.”

A new future flashed in front of Haruka: he pictured Makoto and himself growing old together, Ren and Ran’s children running up to them and smothering them in hugs and kisses. Makoto and him swimming together, faces wrinkled and hands laced together. 

“Ask me —” Makoto’s started, shaking Haruka out of his reverie. He heard the catch in Makoto’s throat; Haruka brought a hand to his chest, his heart aching. Makoto had always been silent about what he wanted. He never asked for more than anyone could give. 

“Living together with you… I…” Makoto trailed off, not able to continue; Haruka watched his friend struggle, Makoto’s eyes closed, water creeping around the edges of his eyelashes.

Haruka tried to find a way to tell Makoto that it would be okay. That marrying Yukari would make his parents proud. That he’d be the greatest uncle that Makoto’s children could have. That they would never part. Nothing would change.

The words stuck in his throat like water plugged in a sink.

Time trickled past and the pressure in Haruka’s chest grew heavier. Haruka believing that his chest might burst if the silence didn’t end, Makoto patiently waiting for an answer.

He couldn’t find one. Couldn’t find the words for what Makoto meant to him. How much he needed him.

Exhaustion seeped into Haruka’s bones, words spiraling around in his head, but none of them making sense. Carefully, Haruka moved closer to Makoto until their sides were pressed together, hoping to convey what language could not. He rested his head on Makoto’s shoulder, his hand grasping his friends; Makoto’s hand was wet from either sweat or tears. The tension in Makoto deflated somewhat, his head resting on top of the shorter swimmers.

Rain beat rhythmically against the windowpane as constant as a heartbeat. Haruka turned his head toward the sound, burrowing his face in the crook of Makoto’s neck. He breathed in the scent of rain and the smell of Makoto, the scents tightly intertwined.

“I don’t need more than this, Haru,” Makoto said, always knowing what was on Haruka’s mind before Haruka had the chance to voice it.

The pain in Haruka’s chest increased as it dawned on him that Makoto never brought anyone home — male or female, friend or lover – while they lived together; he had never asked to bring someone home or stayed at a lover’s house. They had never mentioned rules for boyfriends or girlfriends — it had not entered Haruka’s mind that they would have to.

Intimacy — touching — wasn’t something Haruka searched for. The caress of water and random arm squeezes and hugs was enough physical interaction. There had not been a need to want for more. What could a warm body give him that water could not?

Dealing with water was easier than dealing with people and that was why Haruka stayed away from crowds; why he kept his friendship circle small.

Through all the years together, Makoto never asked his friend for more, but Haruka wasn’t as blind as people made him out to be. He felt the love that Makoto enfolded over him. Makoto’s love confusing Haruka and making him second guess where their friendship lay. His love making Haruka question what type of relationship he sought. 

Water never confused Haruka like Makoto. It never tugged him in all directions or left him without a clear mind. He knew when to surge forward in water and when to pull back, swimming with the tide; Makoto made everything swirl around him, dragging Haruka to the ocean floor.

Haruka made an effort to push his mind back to the family that was in reach for Makoto. The life that his friend deserved: the love of a wife and children, with a house in the country side and small pool. To ask Makoto to stay with him would be selfish, Haruka unsure if he could give everything Makoto wanted. 

Haruka’s mind spun, thoughts crashing into each other, emotions tumultuous like a rising storm. His thoughts battled forward, the knot in his throat loosening as words started to surface; the pounding in his chest stomping up to his ears.

“Stay,” he said, not shocked at himself, but surprised at the steady timbre in his voice; guilt assailed him after, but it was too late. There were no waves to wash away his words.

Haruka held in a breath, tension in the slope of Makoto’s shoulders dissipating like rain in the sun. Makoto squeezed Haruka’s hand, cradling it against his chest. The words “do not regret this” surfaced in his mind, Haruka unsure of who they were for.

“I never will,” said Makoto, his green eyes bright with warmth. “I would never ask you for more than what you have already given.”

A bubble of uncertainty still brewed in his mind, Haruka unable to keep his nagging thoughts at bay. He still felt so unsure: would he really be enough? Could he be enough?

“Haru,” said Makoto, placing a kiss on top of his head. “I can hear your thoughts from here. My mind is made up.” He looked at Haruka, a question in his eyes, _“is yours?”_

And suddenly Haruka felt like he was diving into the ocean, into the black abyss, but this time it was different. Makoto was there, his outstretched hand pulling Haruka out of the dark depths. Makoto not letting Haruka sink. 

Haruka exhaled and placed his hand on Makoto’s chest, Makoto’s heart beat steady, matching the even tempo of the rain falling outside. 

“Yes,” said Haruka, the storm breaching. His thoughts settling.

He leaned into Makoto, wrapping his arms around his friend — his someone more. Makoto smiled against his neck, his embrace fitting Haruka like a second skin, Makoto’s love clinging to Haruka and coating him like water.


End file.
